Cinch Knot

by Ron Walden

  “Sounds good to me,” Sam said. “I’m beat.”

  “It sounds good to me, too. I don’t know about you three, but I’m hungry. I’m not used to going 16 hours between meals,” Gwen said, trying to brighten the mood.

  Captain Mike Deitz laughed. “You three go ahead. Roger knows where your rooms are. I have to check with the duty Sergeant at the OCC. I have a meal and room waiting for me here.” He was writing in a small notebook. “This is the phone number for the supervisor at the OCC; he’ll know how to get in touch with me at all hours. I’ll meet you at the conference room at the OCC in the morning…how about 0900?” and he ripped off the sheet and handed it to Sam.

  The hotel was quiet when they checked in. The clerk was courteous and they were given three rooms on the first floor with the same view of the entrance to the Valdez Small Boat Harbor.

  Roger and Sam were each sipping a drink when Gwen arrived in the dining room. The waitress led her to their table near a window overlooking the harbor. It was rather quiet here. Most patrons had left the dining room, and a few tourists, still awake, had retired to the bar.

  “Would you like a drink?” Roger noticed her well pressed clothes and smoothly brushed hair. One simple wave along the back told him she had worn a barrette most of the day. He was glad she had brushed it loose.

  “Yes, thank you. Bring me a lite beer,” she said to the waitress as she sat down at the table.

  Halibut steak, vegetables and cheese cake assuaged their hunger. The three left work behind and became better acquainted; they had already become friends. “Where did you put all that food, little lady?”

  “You carrying your own doggy bag for later?”

  The two men teased Gwen about her appetizer, a loaf of bread, salad, halibut steak and potatoes, and two beers. She was laughing with them and sipping coffee.

  “I wouldn’t be so hungry if you guys would stop the mystery and intrigue for a minute and buy me lunch. Even a simple snack would do.” She kept watching Roger from the corner of her eye. She was impressed, and strongly attracted to him.

  They finished dinner and sauntered to their rooms. Roger had just turned the television on when someone knocked at the door. Gwen was standing in the hall, holding a tray with two cups of coffee.

  “May I come in for a few minutes?”

  “Certainly, a man would have to be a fool to turn down a cup of coffee delivered to his room,” Roger said, smiling. “and by such a beautiful lady too.”

  “I didn’t want to watch TV and I needed to relax a little before I can sleep. Do you mind talking for a while?”

  “Not at all. In fact I’m a little keyed up myself. I’m glad you came.” Roger would have been embarrassed to tell her just how glad he was. He had been trying to think of a way to become better acquainted.

  They talked for almost 2 hours. They talked about her marriage to the nuclear scientist and about how Roger had met Dan Webster. They talked about her job and her future. They talked about his job and his future. Finally she looked at her watch; it was late.

  “Are you really going to run in the morning?”

  “Yes, I have to stay in shape. It will be a short run though, I don’t have the right shoes to make my regular run.”

  Gwen stood and walked to the door, “Would you mind if I ran with you in the morning?”

  “I’d like that. Say, 7 then?” he took her hand.

  “I’ll be at your door at 7,” she said as she left.

  Roger looked at his watch; it was a quarter past 12. Dan would be on the plane now, on his way to Phoenix. It had been a long and eventful day. He thought about Dan for a moment. Had it been a mistake to send Dan to Arizona? Would he be a cop or an avenger when he met Bergstrom again? He was too tired to reevaluate his judgment. He kicked his shoes off, lay back on the bed and was asleep almost instantly.

  Roger didn’t know how long the telephone had been ringing when he awakened. He knew he had a headache and he wanted to go back to sleep. The phone continued to ring. He looked at his watch, 2 AM. Who the hell would be calling him at this hour. He reached for the receiver, “Yeah, this is Dorfmann.”

  “Roger, this is Mike Deitz. You had better get Sam and Gwen and get over here as quickly as you can. We’ve found the arming device. But we also have one big problem. I need you here right away.”

  “Okay, Mike, we’ll be right there,” Roger said as he hung up the phone. He was not totally awake yet, and shook his head.

  He stepped into the hall and knocked on the next door. Sam sleepily stared at him. “What is it, Roger.”

  “Deitz said they found the arming device, but there was some kind of a problem and he needs us right away. Better get dressed.”

  “Great. Okay, okay, be with you in a minute.”

  Roger knocked on Gwen’s door. After what seemed an hour, “Yes, who is it?” came through the door.

  “It’s Roger. We’ve got to go back to the facility. They have found the arming device.”

  “Give me 2 minutes.”

  The three discussed all the possibilities on the drive back to the Marine Terminal.

  “Gwen, are you shivering?” Roger asked.

  “Must be the sudden change from a warm bed to the chilly night. How come these kind of things happen only in the middle of the night?”

  “It couldn’t be all that bad if we now have the black box we’ve been looking for.” Continued Roger.

  “Maybe Deitz just got overexuberant, not hysterical mind you, upon finding the last piece. In any event we’ll soon find out. We’re almost there.” Roger slipped his coat over Gwen’s grateful shoulders.

  “Hmmm,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  At this latitude and time of year, it never really gets dark. When weather is clear, there is a constant dusky glow at the horizon. The sky is never full of stars. In Valdez, where the Swiss Alps-like mountains ring the bay and the surrounding lowlands, it’s darker. It was now 15 minutes before 3 in the morning. A driver could see the road well enough to drive without headlights, difficult though, to see a pedestrian or a moose on the roadway. Roger was driving faster than he liked but, the call was urgent.

  Several vehicles with motors running, and headlight illuminating the door of the Pig Receiving Station, were in a half circle. People were milling about. He skidded to a stop and jumped from the truck.

  “What the hell is happening?”

  “Haven’t the foggiest.” Sam shook his head.

  Captain Deitz was angrily striding toward them.

  Roger met him near the front of the truck. “What is it, Mike? What’s happening here?”

  “Someone killed two of my men, Damn it!” Deitz paused, shifted from foot to foot, looked at the ground, raised his head and continued, “Someone came in here between 0110 and 0130. It looks like they shot Patton first, the other officer, Randy Winkleman, drew his weapon, but didn’t have time to get off a shot. Both men were hit in the chest. Whoever did this is a pro. Troopers are investigating, but there isn’t much here to go on.” He pounded his fist on the hood of the truck. “These were good men. I’ve known them a long time.”

  Roger couldn’t say anything, He put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and stood quietly.

  After a minute, Deitz gathered his wits and explained, “We have another problem, maybe a bigger problem. Whoever shot my men also had the arming device, installed it, loaded the pig on the truck, and parked it behind the OCC building. My patrol spotted the truck. He came here to check with the guards, he found them dead. Anyway, I looked inside the pig at what looks like a countdown clock. If it is, then there’s only a little over 2 hours before that thing explodes.”

  “How could someone get in here, shoot two seasoned officers, and arm an A bomb?” Roger shouted in frustration! “That’s exactly what we put those men here to prevent.” his voice echoing off the buildings. In an instant, Roger took in the sea of faces watching him. The gravity of the moment was forming in his mind. He might be looking
at the killer. He wasn’t sure who he could trust.

  Almost as quick as his anger flashed, Roger calmed and the cop inside him quickly took over. “Tough news about your men. Any suspects or idea of how and when it happened?” He asked.

  “No. My patrol officer saw only two technicians taking readings at the Vapor Recovery buildings. No one else has been seen, outside, since midnight.”

  “Sorry about your officers, Mike,” Sam said. “Let’s get to the truck and see if the thing really is armed and if we can stop the countdown.”

  They found the red flatbed truck on the south side of the Operations Control Center parked near the building at the base of the communications tower. Sam picked up his canvas tool bag and jumped from the pickup as it came to a stop beside the flatbed. He wasted no time climbing to the truck bed and working his way to the rear of the pig. The pig box had been taken off the truck and the pig loaded on it. It was resting in its cradle. “Good thing they didn’t put it into a shipping container.” Sam whispered to himself. At least this way he had access to all sides of the pig. The rear bulkhead was open.

  Sam climbed into the opening. He had only been inside about 3 minutes when he began to curse. “Damn it, Damn it all to Hell.”

  “What’s the problem, Sam?” Sam jumped from the rear of the truck. “We can’t stop this thing. It’s going to detonate in 2 hours and 22 minutes.”

  “Disconnect the arming device or detonator! Just unplug the black box. Sam, c’mon. There’s got to be a way to….”

  “Roger. Listen. Whoever made this thing knew what they were doing. The box itself is sealed tight, welded on all corners. There are two openings: the cannon plug and the clock. If electrical current is interrupted at either of those points, it will detonate immediately. The only option we have is to haul it some place where it won’t do any harm.”

  “And just where would that be. Sam? C’mon, Gwen. Help me out here. Where’s one of your smart ideas?” Roger asked, nervously.

  Gwen took two or three steps backward and shook her head. I…I just can’t think.”

  Roger reached into the red pickup and retrieved the portable communications radio. He spoke calmly into the radio, “Captain Deitz. Deitz. This is Roger. Meet us in the OCC office right away”

  “Affirmative,” crackled over the radio.

  In the office, Sam explained the situation to the captain. “Is there anywhere we can take this thing and let it detonate? Keep in mind that it has a total devastation area of a quarter mile and a sure kill area of almost a mile. We need somewhere at least five miles from known inhabitants,” Sam explained.

  Deitz was thinking. “This valley is very small and crowded, especially this time of year. It’s too heavy for the helicopters we have available here. What about taking it out to sea?”

  “Do you have the boat available to do that?” Roger asked.

  The Captain reached for a large binder on a bookshelf behind the desk. The binder was marked Trans Alaska Pipeline Service Company, Oil Spill Contingency Plan.

  “Here it is,” he said as he picked up the phone and began to dial. He waited for an answer; “Hello, this is Captain Deitz with TAPS Security. I need the vessel “Alaskan Star” at the onshore dock, like an hour ago.” He paused and listened. “I know. I know. Okay, hurry.”

  “I have to make two more calls. I have to notify the Coast Guard to get everyone out of the area, and I’ll get our helicopter out to cover the area and be sure everyone is out.”

  Gwen was looking at a photo charting the route tankers follow in and out of the fjord.

  “How long would it take for your boat to get to, lets say, Bligh Reef?” she asked.

  “A little under an hour. It’s about 30 miles from the onshore dock to Bligh Reef. What you got in mind?” Deitz asked.

  Her audience looked at the chart on the wall. “Bligh Reef is a hazard to tanker navigation. Look at this chart. See the tanker lanes?” She traced the black lines with a pencil. “They make a turn to the west to avoid Bligh Reef.”

  Sam studied the chart more closely. “That’s where the Exxon Valdez went aground?”

  “You got it,” Gwen continued, “It is a very small reef, but it’s in the tanker lane. If we took this device out to the reef and placed it on the apex. See, near the navigation light. I think we could take the top off the island and make a safer route. It’s also an uninhabited area. No ones around there for miles. When the Coast Guard clears all boats from the area, it should be safe to place the pig there.” She turned from the photo and looked at the men. “There’ll be hell to pay from the environmentalists and there’ll surely be an investigation, but that will happen no matter where it detonates. Importantly there will be no loss of human life, minimal loss of wildlife.” She waited for a reaction. “C’mon, guys, don’t take all day.”

  Roger looked at Sam. “You’re the expert here, Sam; will it work?”

  “Given the amount of time we’re dealing with, and for the potential for loss of life, I think it’s a great plan. Wish I’d of thought of it, myself.”

  “Okay then,” Deitz said. “If you’ll take the truck with the device down to the loading dock, I’ll notify Mr. Lords. Do you know how to get to the onshore dock?”

  “You’ll have to help us there.” Roger said.

  Deitz pointed to the north end of the building. “Take the road to the right, at the end of the OCC building. After you cross the pipes you’ll see the loading Berths. Turn right again and follow the road to the dock. You’ll see a small stationery loading crane. Park there and I’ll have someone come down to run the crane.”

  “I can operate the machinery, Captain” Gwen offered.

  The OCC operator was speaking on the radio, “Captain Deitz, the Alaskan Star is reporting 5 minutes out.”

  Sam looked at his watch, “One hour and forty-three minutes. It’s going to be close.”

  “See you on the dock,” Mike said as he picked up the telephone to call George Lords.

  They began counting each minute; 4 minutes to start the truck and drive to the dock. Two minutes to jockey into position. The Alaskan Star was just tying up at the dock when the flatbed truck stopped under the small yellow crane mounted on the loading dock. The tide was high, almost at slack, making it easy to maneuver the boat. It also raised the elevation of the boat 11 feet, in relation to the crane.

  Gwen stepped from the truck and into the small glass cab of the loading crane. She turned the switches that energized the electric motors for the hydraulic pumps. The pig weighed 6,600 pounds; she raised the arm of the small crane to decrease leverage the heavy, titanium cylinder placed on the boom.

  The clevis was still in the lifting eye, from work done earlier. Sam climbed to the back of the truck and waited for Gwen to drop the cable with the large steel hook. Five more minutes. The hook lowered slowly toward him, and Sam guided the hook into the lifting eye. He gave Gwen a signal telling her to lift the cable and take the weight of the electronic pig.

  Roger, meanwhile, was talking with the crew of the boat that looked like a small landing craft with a square bow. They were standing by and ready to receive the pig. They placed two large 12 inch by 12 inch timbers, each 8 feet long, across the front deck. Near the wheel house, at the rear of the craft, was a large steel davit, originally designed for loading crab pots, now used for moving freight around the deck. There was also a small hydraulic hoist, similar to the one being operated by Gwen, but way too small to lift an object as heavy as the pig.

  “Heads up. Roger, watch it.” Sam called a warning as Gwen began to swing the load out over the boat. As the shiny metal pig cleared the side of the dock, she began to lower it onto the large timber skids. A deck hand motioned to stop lowering and to move toward the center of the boat deck. Gwen complied. Then he closed his fist signaling her to stop the lateral movement. He then gave her a thumb down to lower the pig. She lowered it slowly until she could see slack in the cable. The deck hand drove large wedges under the sides of the devic
e to prevent it from rolling off the skids. He then hooked a chain into a ring on the deck and tossed the loose end over the pig, walked around to the other side, and hooked that end. He pulled a chain binder from a rack on the side of the boat and tightened the chain, then disconnected the cable from the lifting eye and signaled Gwen to lift the hook. Once free of the boat, Gwen shut off the crane and climbed to the dock. Ten minutes. Roger was already descending the ladder to the deck of the boat. Sam followed with Gwen close behind.

  The deck hand was untieing the lines holding the craft to the dock. The three new passengers made their way to the wheelhouse where, away for the noise, it was possible to talk in normal tones. The skipper was backing away from the dock.

  “Where to?”

  “Bligh Reef. Wide open all the way,” Roger said. “We have 1 hour and 31 minutes to unload it on the reef and get at least 5 miles away and into a sheltered area. If we fail, we’re dead. Any questions?”

  “How much does this doomsday machine weigh?” skipper Davis Williams asked.

  He was no stranger to exploding cargo. He had been a Lieutenant in charge of a river boat on the Mekong River in Viet Nam. He had hoped his years of dodging bullets, mortars, and bombs were behind him.

  “Sixty-six-hundred-pounds,” Gwen volunteered.

  Williams keyed a button of the radio panel and spoke; the sound came from a loud speaker on the front of the wheelhouse.

  “Donny, wheelhouse please.”

  The deck hand opened the door and entered the cabin. “Yes sir?”

  “Tie 50 feet of cable to that thing on the skids. Get some chain ready. When we get to Bligh Reef, lower the front and I’ll put you up to the light. Hook a chain on the light and fasten the cable to it. We’re going to anchor that thing to the light and back out from under it. Double check all the ends; we don’t have time for mistakes. Do you understand?”

  “Gotcha,” Donny said as he turned and left to attend his task.